


Wednesday Night Football (Or The Dangers of Marrying Young)

by MaxyK35



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adultery, Anal Sex, M/M, Rimming, Sex Work, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:33:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25171675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxyK35/pseuds/MaxyK35
Summary: Harry Potter has it all, a perfect life, a loving wife... and a bit of a twisted kink.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Sirius Black/Harry Potter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 93





	Wednesday Night Football (Or The Dangers of Marrying Young)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: First fanfic I’ve written in ages and I’ve just knocked it out in a couple of hours so apologies in advance for any typos. Quarantine boredom has a lot to answer for…
> 
> Not really Epilogue compliant.

Harry Potter officially had it all, at least according to the most recent Daily Prophet fluff piece that had been written about him. Ron had taken great glee in making a load of copies of the piece for the purpose of sticking them up all around the shared Auror offices, Harry cringed every time he saw the awkward picture of himself out for dinner with Ginny, trying to hide from the camera being shoved in his face. It had been one of their rare nights out away from the kids and the reporter had managed to catch him half way through eating a particularly messy burger; he had only noticed when he got home that he had managed to spill mustard down the front of his shirt so luckily that had been captured too…

The rest of his colleagues also seemed to find nothing more entertaining than quoting bits of it back to him in the corridors- he knew it was all in good fun and it would wear off after a few more days but he was getting thoroughly sick of people asking him about his “fairytale schoolyard romance” and his “delightful and cherubic children” (James was already ten at this point so cherubic was definitely a stretch and no one in their right mind would ever have described the boy as delightful).

He’d considered trying to ask Ron to back off a little, he was his partner so at least if he stopped then he’d only be getting the ribbing when he was in the office, but he worried that he wouldn’t be able to pull off the light and breezy tone required to make it not seem like it was bothering him unduly and he really didn’t want to welcome any questions about why that was. 

It wasn’t as though he wasn’t happy, he was, really; his job was great most of the time, and he loved his family, Ginny was his best friend and a great wife and he adored the kids, even when they were being total nightmares, but sometimes… well sometimes it was all just a bit… much. He’d always wanted the perfect little family, and as soon as he’d had the opportunity to have it he’d rushed headlong into it, marrying his first proper girlfriend only a couple of years after she had finished school, having their first child shortly after that. He had only been 24 when James had been born which at the time seemed endlessly grown up but now… it wasn’t that he regretted having him, never that, he loved his children more than anything but sometimes he did wonder if it had been too soon. He’d gone straight from the war to the Auror training programme and never taken the time to get to grow or mature or learn anything about himself outside of the whole child soldier, war hero, chosen one thing. At least that was the rationalisation he offered himself when he was feeling particularly awful about how ungrateful he was for not being over the moon about his life and how much of a crappy husband and father he was. The fact that Ginny would probably disagree with him and say he was wonderful really only made him feel worse. He was sure he hadn’t always been a liar and a sneak but somewhere along the line this was where he found himself.

But of course none of that was appropriate conversation with his best friend who was also his wife’s brother so he would have to put up with the teasing for now. Sometimes he thought Hermione got an inkling of what he was thinking, sometimes he would see her looking at him as if she was trying to work something out, and Hermione generally did just know things, but of course she couldn’t really know or she would be just as disgusted with him as he was with himself.

At 5pm he packed up his bag, mostly shuffling papers into piles on his desk to make them look slightly more orderly, so long as it wasn’t the messiest in the office he wasn’t likely to get too much flack for it and given that Ron’s desk always looked like a bomb had been detonated on it he should be fine. He tried to slide out as quietly as possible as he always did on a Wednesday but as usual Ron stopped him before he could sneak out. 

“Heading off early?” Ron spoke around a mouthful of biscuit, spraying crumbs everywhere, Harry couldn’t help but smile despite himself.

“Yeah, football remember?” Harry wasn’t sure where the original inspiration for his lie about having joined a muggle social football team came from but it was definitely one of his more inspired lies; Ron was completely uninterested it football and Ginny didn’t understand the appeal of any sport without a broom at all so they were happy to leave him to it. It also meant he had an excuse for smelling like beer when he came home late because of course they had to go to the pub after. Ginny had completely bought into his waffle about wanting to spend time with people who didn’t know him as “The Harry Potter” and was very happy for him to have that one night a week to himself to do his own thing.

“Oh yeah, course, always forget about that. Weirdo. Have fun though I guess.” Ron turned back to the pile of paperwork he had been working through and Harry slipped out, trying to avoid catching a glance of one of the copies of the Daily Prophet article on the way out. 

As soon as Harry got out to the street he cast a hasty glamour on himself and headed towards his usual haunt, a particularly grimy looking pub just a few streets away from the office. It was a muggle pub so he never saw anyone he knew there. Of course with the glamour it wouldn’t matter anyway but you could never be too careful. The barman knew him, or his glamoured self, and pulled him a beer as soon as he sat down in his normal chair. He finished the first quickly and then ordered another, taking a bit more time to relax and drink slowly, watching the people around him. The pub was a dive but it still started to get pretty full as the muggle offices around started letting out, and he liked to people watch and listen in on some of the mundane conversations going on around him. Mostly people would just bitch about their work or their home lives, but every now and then you’d get a real gem. The most interesting tonight seemed to be a group of women who were talking about how some woman called Mel at work was definitely shagging the boss. He suspected none of them really had any clue whether this was true but by the time they’d been talking about it for 20 minutes every one of them was totally convinced they were dealing in hard facts. By 6:30 he had had three beers and had had his fill of strangers’ conversations so he left and headed back out into the street, feeling slightly warmer and fuzzier than he had when he went in. 

A year ago, when he had first started on his regular Wednesday evening outings, he would have had a moral debate with himself, about how he should just go home, how his wife deserved better, how if he had to have multiple drinks to be able to work up the courage to do something then maybe he just shouldn’t… but a year ago he would also have had to had several more drinks and would have felt awful for weeks about what he was doing and now he just couldn’t seem to summon up the moral outrage at himself anymore. It was just something he did.

As he reached his destination he glanced around quickly before ducking into a shabby looking doorway and heading up the flight of stairs there. As he went through the door at the top the space transformed, revealing a luxurious reception area; individual waiting spaces were separated by shimmering drapes to allow their clients privacy and each area had the comfiest red velvet seats Harry had ever sat on. The receptionist was an impossibly glamorous woman of maybe around 20, with glistening blonde hair that fell in perfect waves down her back and sharp blue eyes. She lit up as she saw him, as she always did; Harry suspected she did the same for everyone that came in, she was very good at her job.

“Mr Parker, so lovely to have you back with us!” Every week she was just as delighted, as if it was always a lovely surprise and he hadn’t been here like clockwork almost every week for the last year.

“Lara, nice to see you as always.” He took her hand briefly and smiled at her, he was getting much better at being charming and polite when he visited. The first few times he had been he had been a nervous wreck, avoiding eye contact and any conversation but now… now he could sometimes almost convince himself they were friends.

“I trust you’re wanting your usual? Marco was hoping you would turn up, he’s just getting ready if you would like to take a seat?” She gestured to one of the waiting areas and he nodded, smiling again gratefully and moving to where she pointed him.

He had first heard about this place from one of the junior Aurors at work. He had been assigned him for a training assignment and the bloke just couldn’t shut up, gabbed on all day about all sorts of nonsense until Harry was just about ready to knock his head against a wall- nothing worse on a stakeout than someone who can’t keep quiet and none of his topics of conversation held any particular interest to Harry. That was until he’d started talking about his night out in Soho the previous week, to hear him tell it they’d had a crazy night with all sorts of (very made up sounding) shenanigans before one of his friends had suggested visiting a muggle brothel. Obviously a totally inappropriate anecdote to be telling a senior colleague at work the very first time you’d met them but Harry had been distracted from the impropriety when the boy started telling him about, of course, how different the place had been from the wizarding variety.

Harry wasn’t sure why it had never occurred to him that wizarding brothels must exist- oldest profession in the world and all that- but he really hadn’t ever given it any thought. It wasn’t the sort of thing that had come up in school and it wasn’t something he ever would have discussed with Ron either. He tried not to sound too interested as he asked the other man how it was so different, but his colleague was so happy to give him details of all the many things that could be bought at a wizarding brothel that he really didn’t need to dig at all.

After they parted ways he had chalked the shift up to an interesting conversation about something he hadn’t heard about before, but nothing that really needed much thought. Except from, of course, for the weeks that followed he thought about nothing else. It wasn’t that his sex life with Ginny was so terrible or anything but from what he had heard guys at work joking about he couldn’t help feeling maybe he was missing something; they had sex maybe once a week and it was perfectly pleasant, but it had always been much the same and he wasn’t sure how to go about suggesting anything new, not to mention that he felt somehow indescribably dirty thinking of doing any of those things his colleagues talked about with Ginny; she was just so sweet and lovely and the thought just felt grubby somehow. And then there was the other problem, namely that quite early in their sexual relationship he had found that he found the whole experience a lot… easier, when he imagined other people. In particular other male people. At first it had just been his mind wandering, and he had felt dreadful about it, but eventually he realised it did seem to make the whole thing more enjoyable for the both of them and just put it down to one of those weird things that he was sure loads of people did. And by the time he realised that maybe it wasn’t… well it was a bit late by then and he was happy enough.

So after a few weeks of obsessing about that conversation he found himself in a bar after work. Once he was suitably hammered he wandered over to the door that the junior Auror had mentioned specifically, and hovered nearby for nearly an hour. He didn’t go in that time, or the next and when he finally had, he had been drunk and the whole thing had been mortifying and he’d sworn he would never go again and that was the end of his weird experimental quarter-life crises. Except from he did go again, and again, and again. Until it was part of his weekly routine. And he had learnt a lot about himself and his sexuality in the process. For one, it turned out that he didn’t feel the need to imagine other people when he was with men; he had tried women as well but that went much the same as when he was with Ginny and somehow made him feel like even more of an arsehole. In the first months he had switched between multiple different escorts, finding some he liked more and some he didn’t gel with so well. He had tried all different kinds of creative sex, again some that were thrilling (he had loved a bit of light bondage) and some that were just too much (nothing involving any more niche bodily fluids again). Of course, that was until he found out about the polyjuice thing; since then he had become very specific in his desires and didn’t deviate much on a week to week basis. He had tried the polyjuice with a few of the escorts but Marco was by far the best at getting into character and for the last few months he had been a very faithful customer.

One of the side doors opened and Marco sidled round it, smiling and gesturing for Harry to follow him. Harry tried not to look too eager as he got up and headed towards the room. Marco sat at a little table and poured him a glass of wine, resting his hand on Harry’s thigh as he sat down next to him. They always sat and had a discussion about what he wanted before they got started, it tended to be a pretty quick one at this point but sometimes Harry had a new request to add in. Not today though, Harry reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a little pouch and pushed it across the table.

“You know how I like him.”

Marco nodded knowingly, and leaned over to push some of Harry’s hair behind his ear, his glamoured self still somehow managed to have ridiculously unruly hair.

“I do. Relax and have your drink, I’ll send him out in just a few minutes once he’s ready.”

Harry nodded and sipped the wine, watching Marco disappear into the adjoining room. 

When Harry had first been told about the polyjuice service, there had only been one person that had jumped into his mind and to start with he had been utterly disgusted with himself. He supposed it must have been that he had been thinking about him more lately, he and Ginny had gone back to the house to clean it out with the intention of selling it and had got out all the stuff that they’d previously stored in boxes. When they originally had decided not to live there Harry couldn’t quite bring himself to sell it right away or throw out any of his old things so they’d gone through and packed it all up, to make room for someone else to rent out the place in their absence. Going through all those boxes had been nice in a way but also felt like someone had kicked Harry in the gut at times, especially the old photos. And one of the things he had found, shortly before finding out about the poly juice was an old hairbrush. It had obviously been put in the “to throw out” pile but that hadn’t quite been taken away yet so Harry had snuck it away. At first he hadn’t really thought he would use it but then he found himself back here, the pouch of hair in his pocket. It wouldn’t last forever he knew but you can get quite a lot of strands of hair from a hairbrush… Once he had managed to rationalise it with himself he decided that really it wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t like he’d ever find out after all. The idea of what he would think if he’d been around to know what Harry was doing made Harry feel sick to his stomach so he just did his best not to think about it.

The door opened and he came back out, not Marco this time, but Sirius. He was so exactly as Harry remembered him but better, cleaned up and dressed so you couldn’t even tell he had spent time in Azkaban. His hair gleamed and his storm grey eyes glinted mischievously at Harry, just like he imagined they would if he was indeed, real. Sirius was the same age he had been when Harry had last seen him, the same tattoos dotted around his skin, the same grin that made Harry feel like they shared some exciting secret. Harry pushed himself out of his chair and crossed the room to him, capturing his lips in a burning kiss. He pressed his body flat against the other man’s, pushing him backwards gently until he fell back onto the bed.

Sirius pulled away and grinned up at him.

“Happy to see me then?”

Harry laughed and hit him lightly on the chest.

“You know I am, I’ve missed you.”

“It’s only been a week,” Sirius smiled and pecked him gently on the lips “but you could always come and visit more often.”

“You know I can’t.” Harry sighed. It was so easy to forget when they were this close and talking that it wasn’t really Sirius. He even smelled like him somehow, although Harry couldn’t really remember thinking he’d smelled any kind of way when he was alive.

“Well best make the most of the time we have then.” 

Sirius lunged up to meet his lips again and Harry groaned, all thoughts of conversation pushed out of his mind again. Their mouth crashed together, messy and all tongues and biting teeth, Sirius moving away to lick and bite at his neck before coming back to his lips, as if he couldn’t bear not to be kissing him for more than a moment. Harry’s hands were tangled in his tshirt, dragging it forcefully over Sirius’ head to reveal his bare chest, before bringing his hands back, stroking and touching every bit of bare skin he could reach. Sirius’ skin was always so hot and the planes of his chest and his back and his messy tattoos drove Harry so crazy he thought he could come right there and then, just touching and kissing and grinding against Sirius’ hip, it didn’t matter how many times he did this, it was always the hottest thing he had ever done.

Sirius’ seemed to tire of the teenage groping after a while and flipped Harry over so he was above him, leering down.

“You are wearing entirely too many clothes.” He said, his voice low as he ground their hips together. Harry whimpered.

“Well bloody do something about it then!”

Sirius laughed and pulled his shirt off and then his trousers, Merlin, even his laugh was right, the bark like sound somehow went right through Harry making his already rock hard cock throb unbearably. Sirius seemed to know how desperate Harry was and pulled away slightly, grinning in the most infuriating way.

Harry whined pathetically and arched his hips up but couldn’t quite reach.

“Come back here you dick.”

Sirius kneeled back on his heels, sat between Harry’s legs and looked thoughtful, Harry wanted to shake him, or kiss him, definitely one of the two.

“No, I don’t think so.”

Definitely the shaking one, or maybe slap him, that would work.

“Fucks sake Sirius, get back here.”

“I want to watch you, I want you to fuck your own hand until I tell you to stop.”

Harry reached down without hesitation, wrapping his hand around his aching cock and sliding it down his length. After a bit he reached over and grabbed the lube from the side, liberally pouring it into his hand, and rubbing up and down. He ran his eyes over Sirius’ body as he rubbed himself, trying to go slow and be some kind of sensual which was hard to pull off when he was so desperate. Sirius was still grinning down at him, watching his hand as if mesmerised and occasionally licking his bottom lips; he still seemed pretty composed but Harry could see his hand kneading the outside of his jeans over his dick so maybe his technique was working. Well two could play at teasing, Harry sped up a bit, throwing his head back to expose his neck and reaching one of his lubed up fingers between his legs to circle his hole. 

“Fuck,” Sirius growled, and suddenly he was on him, knocking his hand away and replacing it with his own, his mouth taking up residence behind Harry’s balls, licking and sucking at the space between his arse and his balls. Harry squirmed in pleasure as Sirius moved closer to his hole, licking all around it and gradually pushing his tongue further inside.

“Fuck, Sirius… That’s… you’re… fuck that’s amazing.”

He could almost feel Sirius smile against his skin, he flipped Harry over so he was on all fours, giving him better access to his arse as he tortured him, diving his tongue in as deep as it would go and out, massaging his dick painfully slowly. It was messy and filthy and Harry had never been more turned on.

“Sirius please..”

“Tell me what you want me to do…” Sirius half pulled away enough to ask.

“Please… I need you.” Harry was almost too far gone to form full words but he knew Sirius wouldn’t let him get away with that.

“Tell me, or I’ll stop.” To highlight how serious he was Sirius pulled further back and slowed his hand movements even more.

“For fucks sake Sirius, just fuck me!”

Sirius chuckled.

“Touchy touchy, all you had to do was ask.”

Sirius pulled back for a second to shake off his jeans, he didn’t appear to be wearing any underwear. He grabbed some of the lube and smeared it on his cock as he lined up with Harry’s hole. He pushed in slowly at first but Harry pushed back into him, causing Sirius to chuckle again.

“Eager today are we?”

Harry moaned, not even trying to hide it as he impaled himself on Sirius’ cock.

“Always… for you…”

Sirius leant forward briefly to press a kiss against Harry’s shoulder before finally stopping his teasing and beginning to fuck Harry in earnest. Every time he pressed into him Harry thought he may go blind with the pleasure, he thrust into him quick and rough scratching his nails over Harry’s back, his thrusts getting more irregular the closer he got to his climax. Harry had been close since they’d first kissed but he was determined to hold on, but the feeling of Sirius’ cock buried deep inside him and the sound of his moans was almost too much to bear. Suddenly he was empty again and Harry made a sound to complain but before he could really react Sirius had flipped him over again and was pushing back inside, this time facing him, Harry’s legs over his shoulders.

This new position hit that spot inside him even more head on and Harry’s cock was trapped between them and Harry was reduced to a complete mess within a few thrusts.

“Fuck fuck fuck, Si, I’m gonna come…”

Sirius leant down and kissed him hard and painfully, groaning into his mouth.

“Come for me. I want you to. Now.”

That was too much for Harry and he exploded, strings of cum covering both of their stomachs. This seemed to be all Sirius was waiting for and he moaned as he came too, releasing inside of Harry. Sirius collapsed on top of him for a minute, regaining his breath and occasionally kissing him gently on the lips. Harry just watched him, he really was just the most beautiful man he had ever seen. After a few minutes recovering, Sirius pulled himself free of Harry and lay down next to him; Harry rolled over to face him and kissed him properly again, this time slow and sweet, their tongues gently playing over each other. They stayed there like that until Harry was vaguely aware of a buzzer going off somewhere, and Sirius pulled back reluctantly.

“I have to go now.” He really did look disappointed, Harry tried to push away the thought that Marco really was an incredible actor and tried to believe it. He did manage to stop himself asking him to stay.

“Ok, but next week, yeah?”

“Of course, I’m always here, whenever you want me.” Sirius smiled and stroked his cheek before slowly getting up, he gathered his clothes and gave Harry a last wink before disappearing into the next room. 

Harry cast a quick scourgify on himself and dressed, he knew Marco wouldn’t come back out until he was gone but he couldn’t take too long. Within 5 minutes he was back out on the street, breathing the fresh air and trying not to think to much about what he had just done. 

He stopped off for one more beer before heading back home, swallowing his guilt and trying to act normal when Ginny hugged him and asked how football had been. One day he would stop, after all eventually he would run out of hair, he would have to stop. But he didn’t want that day to come.


End file.
